


in the sun (home)

by legalmurder



Series: drabbles for oner, the boy group which is basically a double date [2]
Category: ONER, 偶像练习生 | Idol Producer (TV)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Rated T for language, Slice of Life, implied ziyang x chao, there was gonna be smut but i chickened out h, two soft boys in love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-16
Updated: 2018-04-16
Packaged: 2019-04-23 17:26:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14337432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/legalmurder/pseuds/legalmurder
Summary: bu fan thinks about home, and what it means to him.





	in the sun (home)

“Do you ever want to go home?”

Minghui had popped the question to Bu Fan when they were on one of their breaks from training, all four of them basically collapsed on the floor of the practice room in varying states of exhaustion. Ziyang was scrolling through his phone with Lingchao furtively glancing at it from time to time. Bu Fan had closed his eyes and was trying to feel his numbing limbs again. Damn, those sandbags could take a lot out of a person. Minghui worried for him sometimes (read: all the time). Bu Fan craned his neck in the direction of Minghui’s voice without opening his eyes.

“Fuck kind of question is that, of course I want to go home. I hope we still have groceries from last week because I’m starving and unwilling to go grocery shopping after Xiao Yu has broken my limbs apart.” Lingchao giggled at this statement of Bu Fan’s and went back to peeking into Ziyang’s phone again.

“You know that’s not what I’m talking about, baby.” Minghui said in a quitter voice this time so only Bu Fan could hear him. He did not want Ziyang scoffing at him because of the endearment, thank you very much.

Bu Fan finally opened his eyes at that, eyelids heavy, and looked sleepily at Minghui lying next to him. “I wasn’t referring to the dorm,” Minghui told him, because he still looked confused. “I’m talking about going home to your mother and father and brother and grandmother. Going to university, meeting a cute girl, stuff like that. Going home to Shandong.”

Bu Fan looked at their reflection in the practice room mirror. It was a scene he had seen millions of times, how all four of them would lie there on the floor in this room which smelled like sweat, trying to catch their breaths. They would occasionally talk- about food supplies, about their childhoods, about Lingchao’s exams (a topic which the youngest vehemently refused to participate in), about their newest memes- inconsequential stuff like that.

Bu Fan never thought he would get attached to routine. The days of waking up, walking to their company with their cameraman, getting breakfast on the way, practicing till their bodies were numb, eating for lunch and then practicing again. It might even be called monotonous, predictable. Would he swap it for a life in Shandong, a life where he wouldn’t have met someone like Minghui, or Ziyang and Lingchao? Granted, he could see his family more regularly but would he still have a sense of purpose? Would he still wake up with his limbs aching, psyching himself up for another day? Would he still kiss Minghui when he thought Ziyang and Lingchao weren’t looking? Would he still live a life he wanted to?

A family away from home, that’s how he had always thought of the other three. He still missed his blood-related family, of course; sometimes he would go to sleep silently sobbing at the thought of how hard it was, how he couldn’t see the end of all… this. On nights like this, Lingchao, his roommate, took it upon himself to cheer Bu Fan up. He would never admit it, but he was truly grateful for the kid.

He thought of Minghui, and he always jokes about him getting older. It was admirable, how Minghui had decided to start over at such an age. It was one of the things Bu Fan loved about him.

He thought about Ziyang, and how easily he could have been a full time model instead of switching careers to something that was so much of a gamble, it was insane.

He thought about Lingchao, and how he was still so young to make his own living- but he was doing so, and it awed all the others to no end.

He thought of himself, and how easy mornings in Shandong would be. But he didn’t want it if it meant giving his present life up- a life without a sense of satisfaction, a life without his friends, a life without Minghui.

“This is my home, Lao Yue.” Bu Fan muttered at last, his head whirring with thoughts. “Going back there, getting a job, those are not things that I want. Meeting a pretty girl doesn’t interest me much either.” The last statement almost had a teasing lilt to it, and Minghui heard what Bu Fan wasn’t telling him. _I’m in love with you, why would I want to see other people?_

His words struck something deep in Minghui. They resonated his own uncertainties, his own insecurities, his own exhaustion. “I get it.” He said chastely, reaching over to squeeze Bu Fan’s hand. They were always like this, the both of them. They always seemed to be on the same wavelength, always looking at each other and knowing what the other was thinking. Minghui had reasoned it to the both of them being straightforward, but he knew it was something deeper.

Ziyang’s voice cut in through their sappy staring. “The fans really make inventories of our clothes, they’re just something else.” Lingchao whistled lowly. “There’s even that ugly jacket of Yang-ge’s that Lao Yue always steals!” Ziyang hit him playfully at that. “Wow, would you look at that, it’s a photoset of Fan-ge and Lao Yue sharing clothes. Interesting.”

“Interesting indeed.” Minghui said, still looking at Bu Fan. God, even then, with Bu Fan’s shirt drenched in sweat, with eye bags under Bu Fan’s eyes, Minghui still wanted to kiss him. He understood what Bu Fan meant about this being home, this little universe that they had created themselves. This domesticity, this routine, this bond between the four of them- this was home now.

Cheesy as he was, Minghui blew him a kiss. A smile stretched across Bu Fan’s face, so wide that it looked painful. It tugged at Minghui’s heartstrings, fuck, he was so whipped. For once, not caring about the presence of the other two, Minghui leaned forward and pecked Bu Fan’s lips.

_Home._

**Author's Note:**

> told you i had a lot of drafts lel the title is taken from a song called in the sun - hovvdy  
> also next up is probably a ziyang x chao drabble i love soft children  
> THEYRE DEBUTING IN AUGUST I CANT STOP SCREAMING


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